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Hanna, Abigail Stanley

"Withered Leaves from Memory's Garland"


Wealth here has the splendid monument, embellished with all the
sculptor's art, while the poor sleep as sweetly beneath the simple
sod.
Our first visit was to the Chapel. You are struck upon your entrance
with the hollow sounds that reverberate at every footfall, reminding
one of the emptiness of all earthly things.
There was a coffin within the paling, covered with a black pall,
speaking to us of death and decay; but as we raised our eyes to the
stained glass windows, through which the autumnal sun was pouring his
mellow rays, and casting such a subdued and peculiar light upon all
things in the Chapel, and saw the heavenly expression of the angels as
they took their upward flight, the soul seemed big with immortality,
and the Christian's hope teeming with a better life, was cheering
to it, lifting it up till the things of earth looked dim, distant,
shadowy.
The beautiful statue, too, touched so nicely by the hand of art, as to
look like breathing marble, points the beholder upward to the skies.
This Chapel, standing as it does at the entrance of the Cemetery,
is well calculated to solemnize, the mind, and prepare it for the
contemplations of the surrounding scene.
As we left its quiet retreat and pursued our onward way, sad thoughts
came stealing over the mind, as we reflected how many aching hearts
and tearful eyes had passed over that road to deposit the dearly
loved, and lost in their last resting places.


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